A Fateful Choice
by EleanorKate
Summary: Chummy makes a decision for herself, or so she thinks, pushing aside what others tell her she ought to be doing. Rated a bit high for the first 2 chapters, but that will change. NOW COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

Could you have anything more heavenly than this?

A real fire rustling away in the grate before her and his arm casually around her shoulders, listening as the sparks jumped and danced almost hypnotically as you watched their joy pervade as they filled the room with their confidence. It was as though they knew her reasons for being here as the embers crackled; a point of concentration as she became mesmerised by their mere presence. Her mind, once wandering as she had walked up the stairs, was now immovable. This was her fate; it must be, even though her hands were trembling at the prospect.

Chummy was encroaching ever so slightly with her knees pulled up and leaning on his lap, not wanting a moment's space between them. Peter certainly didn't seem to mind as all he felt the need to do was smile at her in utter contentment in the moments that they caught each other's eye. The atmosphere, in its all-enveloping warmth, might just have invited sleep too but Chummy knew she was cheating and it kept her wide awake for fear of what she was not sure.

"No-one will find out will they?" she had asked Peter as they walked arm in arm away from Nonnatus almost two hours ago now, looking nervously back as Trixie cycled away to a call and waving at them gleefully in goodbye as they went in the opposite direction.

"No" he'd replied simply, pulling her along as she lingered. "All you said was that we were going to have something to eat. You didn't say _where_".

_'Where'_ just happened to be his lodgings in the attics of Empson Street fresh from a diversion to collect fish and chips and two bottles of ginger beer from the shop on the corner and having eaten they were now indulging in some well-earned peace. The sky outside was now a elegant shade of navy, but long ago Peter had closed the curtains turned and smiled at her sitting comfortably on his settee. Little he knew at that point as all he wanted was her there.

Back in a rather pleasant state of togetherness now for almost a week, the dining rooms nor the cinema held any attraction over creeping upstairs past his landlady, cosseted in each other's company and what had transpired to be rather a significant decision made three nights ago, but one she had not yet imparted to this person who had not quite been her fiancé just yet. That was probably the reason she was so neurotic now that she would be seen where she shouldn't be as though the world and all that was dear to her would find out.

All of a sudden, even though the fire was casting a soothing glow around them in the darkness of his sitting room, Chummy shivered, like someone had danced over her last resting place and Peter noticed it immediately.

"Are you alright?" he asked, taking the opportunity to press a chaste kiss to her forehead, the first words he had spoken to her in some while as he too had become mesmerised by the fire. Peter was not thinking what was causing her to shiver was the fact that the hand that was attached to the arm over her shoulder was ever so gently skirting the collar of her dress, catching her skin at all too infrequent intervals as it traversed back and forth. There was no intention or ruse behind it as his fingertips had simply fallen there and it was, on one hand, soothing her rattling heart but on the other was fuelling new sensations and ones that felt rather divine.

Chummy suppressed a smile as she raised her head and nodded at him. She still couldn't read that look on his face except it seemed to be drilling into her very soul.

"I have no idea what to feel" she whispered, her voice contemplative and low, not really thinking he might have any answers to her questions regardless of whether she asked them or not. "I know what I should be saying and feeling but it's quite so contrary to what one truly wants". He saw her frown at her own statement; clear she was thinking out loud and her statement was rather out of the blue. For once in her life though she actually knew what it was that she wanted and it was, simply put, _him._

"Well what do you want?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. In her heightened state of awareness it didn't help that his voice sounded like gravel, rough around the edges and far too enticing. It didn't help either that he moved towards her, drawn by some compelling influence as she watched him from the corner of her eye, his lips hovering. She could feel him breathing against her cheek; each word enunciated with a short puff of air. Kisses were more frequent now, as were these moments where they would just rest in each other's arms and in the sanity of her room at Nonnatus, this decision seemed such an easy one to take.

"Peter, don't" she whispered, resting her cheek on his, voice barely audible as she too placed a hand on his chest, something in the back of her mind shouting out. It was no good as courage was starting to fail her now faced with what was a very apparent reality. If she let him kiss her now; well that would be damnation.

He withdrew immediately, taking his arm back from around her shoulder. Peter knew it too; knew where this could so very easily end up and he would have to understand.

"No" she protested, feeling immediately bereft of his company and comfort; feeling the loss of the gentle pressure around her shoulders more than she could perhaps have ever imagined. "No, I'm such a fool. Peter, I didn't mean that. Please if you want to put your arm around me, do it". She looked up at him, eyes locked with his like he was the only person in existence and this room was the last four walls and roof on earth. "And if you want to…to… " She actually couldn't say the words; each syllable drying on her lips.

"I won't be pushing you away if you want to". There she had said it and it was out. Well, perhaps; in as so many words.

He frowned at her, trying to understand what she was saying. "You have to want to" he replied. Peter knew this wasn't about him at all and he had to be convinced she knew that too or that she did not feel obligated.

"Convention tells me I shouldn't even be sharing a settee with you at this time of night on my own, but convention never liked me very well and I am finding its company somewhat…_.tedious_". The last word of her sentence disappeared into the confines of a kiss. It wasn't as though he hadn't kissed her like this before, even if it was only a handful of times, but if she had her way this would end differently from the door to Nonnatus closing on her love.

If anyone could see her now; friends, parents, Sisters they would be appalled, particularly as the palm of his hand was holding so tight splayed across her jaw, lips grazing over her cheek and neck. She surprised herself with the giggle that followed but to him it sounded like the finest music ever composed. Her skin had always been soft on those times she had let him close enough to hesitantly touch. Even those times she would complain of the ill wind down by the docks, whipping and cracking at her skin leaving it ruddy and chapped, to his fingertips it felt like the finest silk ever woven.

"Tell me when you want me to stop" he whispered in her ear, feeling only a shake of the head, not trusting her speech. In return as he heard her sigh in response to the journey he continued across her skin, revelling in the sound as it swept to his ears. Whatever he was doing to her, it felt particularly convivial and there way on God's earth she was letting him stop doing _that_.

Chummy unravelled her legs from underneath herself as she felt a breath of a push to her shoulder. If she was being truthful to herself she was not entirely sure whether it was her volition that had taken her to slipping backwards feeling the settee welcome her or him helping her on her way. Either way, neither way, it did not matter as she found herself laying down; his weight half on half off her. This was fate and comfort personified as his lips met hers again, her arms wrapped around his shoulders as she locked up her worries.

If Peter was being honest with himself, one of the reasons _he _had kept her at arm's length or rather perhaps not pushed her was that despite what his mouth might profess to the contrary, other bits of him would object vehemently if they stopped what they had started. This woman was everything and he had to get this right; make sure. So, he had concluded, best not start what you are not allowed to finish, until you have the license of a marriage certificate to your name. Now it seemed the woman who one day he might marry was changing the landscape herself and with her consent, he would follow.

Feeling bold she took his hand, sliding them together so their thumbs locked, keeping the connection for a brief moment before, quite consciously, she drew his hand up and over to rest on the buttons of her cardigan at her waist. It caused him to raise his head away from her.

"You really mean it, don't you?" Peter asked, his own anxiety suddenly firmly kicking away. She swallowed, seeing him look at where their hands lay, moving his thumb in the lightest touch against her skin. "I do".

Peter took that as a rather shaky warrant to carry on, deciding that as she had clearly already done, that there were no intentions of waiting as convention, that thing called what they were _supposed_ to do, had expected of them.

He had to be careful of her though. She was far too vulnerable underneath it all, and even if she had just as good as said yes to him she could still say no. He had nothing so precious in his life more than her and he had only learned the hard way of what his days and nights were like without her presence within them. Nothing would interfere again and if she said no, it was no.

"Camilla?" he asked, withdrawing further away so she could no longer feel his chest expand as he breathed; no longer feel his lips as they scattered kisses.

"Yes, I am making my choice and one knows what one is getting oneself into. As it were" she added quickly, pre-empting his question. "My eyes are open. Besides," she continued, "when we get married I won't have a choice so…."

"You will have a choice Camilla" he said, resting his hand on her ribs again, as far away from those buttons as he could make it. "You can say no to me and tell me we wait". It did not register with him that she made reference to marriage.

She shook her head. "No I can't". She had perhaps not meant no to him per se, the ultimate choice of whether she would sleep with him, but the voice regarding the decision she had personally made for herself was perhaps more prevalent. There was no going back now, perhaps even regardless of what he said and this choice she was making was for her and her alone, marriage or no marriage. This wasn't about that even though she could not entirely express it even to herself. This was her taking control at last and feeling free enough of the shackles she would place on herself to make a choice. He would just be the recipient of the spoils, perhaps.

"Do you want me to carry on?" Peter asked, far too nervous himself now. Despite the fact that one day a while ago she had told him that she had not exactly ripped through the chaps; his affairs had hardly been elaborate, frequent or complicated. Girlfriends? Well yes, there had been but not like her. A wrongly placed hand didn't really come into it before now.

Chummy simply nodded.


	2. Chapter 2

Chummy sunk into another kiss as she lost the faux pearl buttons on her cardigan, his hand pushing away the wool as it settled at her side. It was not as though she was not under several more layers, but just that simple act perhaps exposed her more than the loss of any other item of clothing that may follow as it was a determined first step on the path she had chosen to take.

The moment she had released his hand, Peter could not help but notice the tremor that had taken over his. This wasn't meant to be such an experience that you had shaking hands or be even hesitant to draw breath about to bed your one day wife, but it was this time. This was so new, so all encompassing that this was like the absolute first time again but with so very much more at stake than boasting to your mates that you had your girl last night.

She needed him to take the lead though as despite her rather bold signals, she was in all truthfulness bereft when it came to the 'how'. It pained her how ill-educated people could be and this time she would count herself amongst that faceless group; entirely lost as to how to even begin or what to do or how to react to his touch.

Peter seemed quite happy, and was quite happy, to simply kiss her for now and as the moments rolled on, the doubts slowly started to drift away. It was the fact that he could make her sigh like that; the fact that he had never heard her chuckle like that before just by a deftly placed kiss. This was everything Peter ever wanted right here from the moment he set eyes on her cycling up Leyland Street at the crack of dawn and deciding he had fallen in love, hoping against hope that she might just feel the same way.

Her hand skirted down his side, taking hold of his jumper. Not moving, just taking tight hold like an anchor as she wriggled sinking deeper into the settee as she made herself as comfortable as she could. It was not the most inviting of places to settle into; the settee worn with thinning cushions, but for all of it, she would not choose goose down or Egyptian cotton above it as this was where she belonged. At last, a tatty settee in an attic, a fire the only conscious source of light and a man who had more manners and grace than anyone she had encountered in her life put together. This was _right, _he was right and he was kissing her like he had truly never kissed her before.

Nothing on earth could convince her otherwise as she breathed in, restricted by his weight against her but feeling so safe at last. No other decision Chummy had ever made had been so correct; so unqualified and whatever happened from this entanglement onwards, no-one would be allowed to find fault. Others could chastise her for it but for perhaps the very first time in her life, she would be deaf to their argument and walk with her head held high as this was _right_.

Her squirming underneath him however was doing Peter no favours whatsoever and if he had to be pleased, he was pleased when involuntarily his hand had taken to lifting her knee and sitting it against his hip. They fitted together like two pieces of the simplest jigsaw and she stilled, absorbed again her hand leaving the crumpled jumper and smoothing over his cheek to entwine in his hair, grazing through to rest as her fingers flexed against his skin. There was that sigh and giggle again and it hit him straight in the solar plexus, thinking for the first time that he had been responsible for that and it was marvellous.

Slowly her guard was coming down as the moments rolled on. His hand though had found its way back clamped to her ribcage, immovable until something told him he could continue on a northward exploration. Trouble was, through innocence alone, she could not utter the words she needed to say and sudden shyness had overtaken him too to take his hands to her blouse. Whatever spot he had found on her neck though had taken his attention and he felt her exhale heavily, moving to expose more skin to him, tilting her head to one side, eyes opening for a moment greeted by the glow of the last embers of the fire.

Buoyed by that silent acceptance, the hesitant hand on her ribcage moved down. She resisted a joke about there being plenty to get hold of and for a few deeply interesting seconds, he kneaded the curve of her hip taking in every inch of her before Chummy felt his hand drift over her knee, just past the hem of her dress. It did not occur to stop him as whatever else he was doing, lips caressing hers, it was distracting and perfect and still ever so right. He had his license now. Why they called this heaven a 'sin' of the flesh she would never know. This was all so new, these feelings and sensations he was provoking in her but nothing about it felt as though she should think it wrong; certainly not now that she was experiencing it first hand.

Peter's hand hesitantly continued to crawl up her thigh and fell on what wasn't stocking, certainly wasn't skin and whatever it was it was that he had encountered was tucked, hidden away, into the top of her stockings behind one of those infernal suspenders that he would, perhaps, be tackling later.

He paused for a moment, withdrawing and looking downwards to where his hand was hidden by her skirts, mind spinning and entirely confused; stuck before he could reach the forbidden.

It was not as though he hadn't been near that particular part of the female anatomy any time before, even though it had been a while to say the least, but what he had found was sufficient to make him stop and think. Chummy, however, knew she had been rumbled. He flicked the rest of her skirts and slip away, landing in a crumpled heap by her hip, extracting the object from its resting place.

"Why do I have the sense that you planned this all along?" he asked, twirling the prophylactic between his fingers as his eyes widened, happily shocked at her audacity to even bring the thing with her. She smiled nervously and for the first time he saw a patch of pink skin half hidden by the neck of her untouched blouse. Even if she had not been able to bring herself to say the words, hopefully he would have found it and taken the not so subtle hint. Either that or he would think she was cheap and then it really didn't bear thinking about what she might do.

It had been bad enough she had stolen it from the supply at Nonnatus, glancing around herself as she could only find one place to hide it where no-one would find it. Unless she wanted them to that was. No-one would notice one had gone missing as they were handed out left right and centre to the ladies of Poplar and not a single person kept count until they were running out. Being safe was one thing and theft was another but she really couldn't think of any other way to indicate her true intentions to him.

Not that she expected him to wear it, mind. Most men in Poplar simply refused and that was a battleground she was not sure she wanted to wade into quite yet if the classes in the clinic where anything to go by; it was more a very broad, well slightly _obvious_, hint. She was sure, relatively, that she would be safe if her calculations were correct so falling to him was perhaps the least of her concerns. The prophylactic went into the pocket of his trousers. "Not yet".

She smiled up at him hesitantly. Perhaps he would be good to her just this once.

"And not here" he said, dropping a single kiss to her lips and sitting up, her legs over his lap. Chummy sat up on her elbows. It was as though finding the prophylactic had caused him to regain his senses; to realise that he owed her more than this.

"I don't mind" she replied slowly, feeling strangely bewildered at this sudden change when all, quite frankly, had been proceeding rather well and this sudden alteration in atmosphere caused to worry he was starting to change his mind.

In all truthfulness she did not mind but her heart was out of time through anxiety and anticipation and she didn't need to be anywhere else than here and certainly didn't want to move. His hands were resting on her calves; suddenly not remotely intimate as she sat up, tucking her legs back underneath herself where they had been some rather delicious moments before. He took her hand, studying it.

"Do you think I can give you what you deserve?" Peter asked, his head bowed, casting his eye over the lines on her palm.

"What I deserve?" she repeated, although he was still not looking at her. She moved and smoothed _her_ palm across his face, extracting herself from his grip, and turning his head towards her. "Yes I do and you can give me everything I need and want. All you have to do is love me for me and we can find a way with the rest".

"Is it that simple?" Peter questioned, needing this to be right, even though he had no words to explain why. It just had to be. She wasn't any other girl; she was this girl who had run for miles with his heart and there would be no boasting here.

"Yes" she replied. "I think it is". Craving love with a desperation is what it was; what is was at this precise moment and she seemed to have found what had been evading her all her life so far and this chance must not be allowed to run away again. It could _really_ be this simple.

Peter nodded, hand now resting on her covered knee; the only contact between them again. She was like an exquisite diamond to him; too precious to break, too prized to sully. It was that. Him; scraping through school, unable to settle at very much at all and she, this lady, had sought to fall for him and would promise to love him and be by his side for the rest of his life. Angels did exist on earth and she was sitting here, ready to willingly give away the most important gift she could and risk herself upon him.

"Peter" she said, her voice firm, needing to catch his attention and make him listen to her. He looked up. "Wherever, I do not care".

"I do" he replied simply, gently lifting her knees from where they were obstructing him from standing up. She regarded him from her place on the settee, wondering what he was doing as he stood ruffled at the edges and shrouded in light from the fire that was slowly dying behind him. A hand extended to her."Stand up".

She stood without question and took his hand. He kissed her on the cheek, just gently, hearing the fire take its last breaths.

"I care immensely, Camilla and I hope one day you'll realise how much", he concluded. She could see it in his eyes, recognise it for perhaps the first time, that he meant every word he was saying and he was not having this any other way and something as precious as this would not be remembered for a scruffy settee. 'How lucky I am' she thought as she smiled at him before she nodded firmly.

"I understand" she whispered.

And she did.


	3. Chapter 3

Peter stopped and turned back to her, Chummy's feet suddenly fastened to the floor as they had meandered hand in hand in to his bedroom. She'd assumed this was his bedroom when she had visited before although to be truthful a few weeks or so ago, she would never have thought she would be standing _inside_ the doorway for a long while to come.

It had only been a few paces and she had followed willingly, feeling a rush of adrenaline as she stood up, breathing slowly and carefully to stop herself from toppling forward to where he had been standing. He had not said another word to her since he took her hand and led her away.

Peter had hold of one hand still but her other was clasped to the door handle that she was closing on herself, twisted behind her back as she heard it click shut. The significance of the door shutting quietly behind her, and of her own choosing, was overwhelming. It might have been seen as closure on his sitting room if you were thinking simply but significantly it was almost resolution on that person that she never really quite knew and on the other side she hoped to see someone she would like to get to know better as these new weeks passed.

He was smiling at her in the darkness, eyes shining as he stepped back towards her, realising she had stopped, casting an eye over the neat bedroom with everything in its place; just like she knew it would be.

"I don't think I want the company of the door or the handle tonight" Peter whispered, trying to break the ice and to see her smile again as the atmosphere had suddenly become rather tense now the time it seemed was upon them. Chummy laughed suddenly as she felt him release her hand to find both palms snaking up to hold her by the jaw, standing inches away from her, although she could feel every shaky breath he was taking.

"Do you believe I love you?" he asked. She _must_ know; she _had_ to know.

"Yes" she squeaked in reply. "I do".

"Walk with me then". Through the dim light in the room they moved to sit on the end of his bed leaving the sanctity of the doorway behind her. Their hands were still clamped together, bodies touching from shoulder to hip and all she could hear was her own pulse thumping in her ears.

"The offer to stop still applies" he said, even though it might just at the moment kill him to have to walk her back to Nonnatus now.

"No it doesn't, Peter" she replied, shaking her head. "It can't and it won't". Peter would happily take that as an answer and kissed the back of her hand, keeping his eyes fixed on her believing now he had her assurances. He had to be the confident one too, or at least pretend so, although both ought to have well realised that they were on the same page precisely when it came to how tonight would hope to unfold. Please let this be the beginning of our lives!

Chummy blinked as he took off her glasses. He'd done it before but uncovering her this way opened her eyes every single time. Peter stood up and placed her glasses carefully on a small table that stood against the bare wall opposite. He turned to where she was sitting, dropping carefully to the floor to one knee.

Her heart nearly fell through the floorboards as her eyes followed his path. Was he going to ask her to marry him?! It certainly looked like that way.

Instead however he smiled at her and leant down to undo her shoelaces; carefully pulling the bows as he went. For a moment, she breathed easy in utter relief. She was going to marry him, of course she was if he asked again, but this evening was not about that at all and Chummy didn't want him to mention 'that word' tonight.

It was perhaps one of the most intimate things that anyone had ever done for her though. Even though it was just a pair of shoes, to kneel at her feet and undo them, take them off and gently lift her ankles away, made her mind swirl and wonder why she deserved this; the imprint of his hand lingering on the skin of her ankle for longer than it ought.

Peter sat up next to her again, a hand pulling her towards him, kissing her once before he drifted back to her neck, casting his lips and warm breath over that spot he had found before. She closed her eyes immediately, willingly breathing out his name and without embarrassment that he made her feel as though he was all she ever wanted.

She felt him smile against her neck. "That's me" he muttered in response to hearing her vocalise his name, hand leaving her jaw, accidentally (and it was an accident) catching the buttons on her blouse on the way down to land at her waist, thumb gently caressing back and forth over the waistband of her skirt. This time it was not a nervous laugh that rumbled from her middle, but a yearning utterance of his name again as her arm wrapped around his neck to pull him as close as she could. Now this was upon her, her worries had begun to filter slowly away.

Her muscles were starting to feel like liquid but the conflict still lingered; dampened but still sitting about her shoulders only going the moment she resolved to stop thinking and indulge in the attention he was clearly willing to give as a side she did not know of herself had started to take over.

How Peter was just longing to touch her, slip his hand to the buttons on her blouse; bring her hands over to him. A thousand things were running through his mind too wondering about those little sighs he kept hearing or how her voice had changed when she said his name; how it might change if he moved those kisses away from her neck to where he wanted to go.

Peter felt her fingertips press against his chest, unsure if that was a hint for him to move or not.

"Lie down?" he asked, foreheads resting, still needing to know. She nodded quietly and slid up the bed to lay, resting her head on the pillows. She saw him kick off his own shoes and join her, crawling up the once tidy covers.

Peter lay down beside her, head propped on one hand, not sure what he ought to be saying as she smiled tentatively at him. He took up the crucifix that lay against her skin; twisting it and turning it as it caught the glow from the streetlight outside.

"Can you take it off?" she asked, watching him as he seemed fascinated by it all of sudden. Chummy sat up not waiting for his answer and turned slightly, her back to him so he could find the clasp. It only ever left her person in the bath before now but this did not seem the place either to have it staring into his face.

He handed her it back, dropping it reverently into her palm and it went onto his bedside table before she turned back to him, peeling her cardigan off with her.

This was slow and perfect in the lack of urgency. She was too frightened of her own perceived inadequacy if you were asking her to tell the truth to be taking the lead. This was such a step and one day, hopefully, if she was to find herself here again, that she might be able to realise that she could be desired by a man and that look on his face that he wore now was just that. It was almost as though his eyes had changed colour as she searched his face for reassurance.

"I trust you" she said suddenly as she watched him study her, hand back laying across her ribs, twitchy and itching to undress her, distracting himself with another searching kiss. This time, however, the diversion lasted merely seconds as his hand fell on her buttons and she felt the pull of her blouse coming free from her skirt as the material drifted away. His hand skated over the satin of her petticoat enveloping her breast entirely surprised herself that she did not freeze as his palm circled, massaging her clothed skin as she let new sensation of what must have been want overtake her rational mind.

Encouraged, Peter felt her hand dip below the belt of his trousers, pulling his shirt free just enough to slide her hand around his back taking more and more material with it as she moved. It struck her immediately how warm he was as her hand drifted tentatively around; frightened to touch but going to all the same. He had been, or so he thought, so entirely in control until then. Just the fact that her hand had crept under his shirt was starting to undo him. Something so simple and it was his end.

"You're perfect" he whispered moving away to plant open mouthed kisses on her collarbone, drifting lower to the swell of skin not still covered by her layers. Her eyes flashed open to the ceiling for a moment temporarily horrified that all she felt like doing was pressing her hand to his head to push him lower. She did it anyway, watching him through half open eyes and drifting closer to where something was telling her she needed him; where his hand had been that she needed to replace with his mouth. Chummy didn't see him look up again, just checking. How he wished he just had the confidence in himself to peel back that strap on her shoulder.

Instead, his mouth found her through the satin of her slip as though he was reading her mind. The sharp intake of breath was all he needed to hear as was the attempt, it seemed, to raise her knee to wrap it around his thigh, but realising he was leaning on her skirt and she could barely move.

"Blasted... skirt" she whispered, not intending him to hear her cursing away as she thought she had said it to herself in her head.

"Is that a call to arms?" he asked, desperately wanting her to relax and enjoy this, but talking was making his voice crack. It did break the tension in the air and she laughed, pressing her lips together.

"Might be". It sounded like a challenge.

"Right" he said, kneeling up away from her, pulling his own jumper up over his head and slinging it behind him. "On your head be it".

Her arms were thrown across her face in half embarrassment at the fact that she was now laughing at him rummaging to find the zip on her skirt. This was better. This was them; being daft together although she was really quite impressed that he made such quick work of her skirt and suspenders when push came to shove. The sudden laughter that they could share made this easier through all the seriousness that there had been and as his hands drifted up her bare legs, _nothing_ outside that door mattered a scrap. That sudden moment of change of mood had done more for her than anything else ever could.

"You've done that before" she noted, feeling brave as the garments went somewhere other than on her.

He cleared his throat, briefly shaking his head. "Not in a while…"

All she felt was a kiss pressed to the inside of her knee before he set her leg back down, this time certainly seeing him check whether she was about to bolt.

Instead she raised her arms to him, wanting him close again, missing the feel of his chest pressed against hers. Neither of them knew who actually precipitated it but after he had crawled back over her, the tips of his fingers on the pulse point in her neck, he found he was unwittingly resting between her legs. Not questioning, Peter leant down to kiss her again as she shifted slightly, hips momentarily rocking before he felt her thighs tighten.

She must, must, now have felt the effect she was managing to have on him, her response borne out of a need to pull him closer to her.

"Camilla?" he asked, still willing to walk away if utterly and truly pushed. "You know what I said…."

"No" she replied, probably far too quickly, but she was not going to ruin this now. She leant up to kiss him to press home precisely what she was saying audaciously moving her hips again as she did it.

She barely heard the 'please don't' muttered against her lips.


	4. Chapter 4

"Don't?" she asked quietly, voice barely audible and she sounded so desperately hurt.

Not even through the haze of whatever was confounding his mind, did Peter miss the wounded sound of her voice. He drew his fingers along her hairline.

"I meant" he began. "Be careful or this might be over before it's started".

"Oh…" she smiled. Actually it was an embarrassed smirk, but she knew when stop meant stop and she _had _felt exactly what he meant; wondering how on earth _she_ made him react like that. Chummy could feel how anxious he was getting too at wanting to make this right and that was perhaps more of the reason behind the 'don't'. It was only once in their lifetime that this would happen, so she understood why.

They could barely go any slower than they were already though as Peter drew his hand over her shoulder and down the lace that decorated her slip, resting for a moment in the valley between her breasts before continuing its journey to her other shoulder.

"I think" she began wondering if she could, "that you should just….." Before he knew it he was on his back and she was sitting on his legs. He would note for future reference that she was stronger than she looked. Actually Peter liked this better, for the view it gave him, taking swift hold of her hips underneath the satin and pulling her tighter against him, thumbs encroaching far too close to where he knew no man had ever touched her before and he would be the only one that would.

Chummy sighed and closed her eyes, palms flat on his chest, indulging in the smoothing over her thighs, back and forth in handfuls. Her skin was still like silk; every inch of her felt this way and he sat up so that they were nose to nose. He missed kissing her and frankly couldn't reach anywhere else and that wouldn't do at all. Her blouse went quickly as her hands clamped to his neck, something different about the kisses this time, a wonderful aching rising up from her middle, sighing as he pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her back so he could take hold of her slip.

Up and over her head, there was a crackle of static electricity from her hair as it left her, exposed in just the corselette she wore. For a second he saw her go to cover herself.

"No", he warned, taking her by the wrists. "Don't anyone ever tell you you're not beautiful".

She didn't have time to contradict or even answer as he had her forward again, although she unconsciously once again wiggled and rolled her hips against him, knowing she was testing him but it was starting to sink in just that it _was_ her that was doing this and only _her _that his body was reacting to.

She heard her name from somewhere where he was buried back in the valley between her breasts, fiddling with the ribbon that held the one of the last barriers between them together. She was about to offer to do it herself when instead his hands went up and over her shoulders lifting the straps away and pulling them down her arms as he found an easier way. Her arms were free but Peter had left the rest of the corselette where it was, not truly exposing her this second of which she was silently grateful. This was more overwhelming by the moment and something caused her to push him away, back so he was lying down again.

Still sitting over him she smiled, feeling bold. Peter just looked flustered and slightly alarmed; not expecting her to be quite that self-assured.

It was still all very confusing that she was, in fact, about to take a lover. It sounded very Victorian but it was the only way she knew how to say it. She'd heard it was dangerous to get married not knowing 'that' side of your husband but the so called friends who had said that, would never have had the courage to be where she was now.

This wasn't a sin. Not a sin. Not a sin at all.

All of a sudden Chummy wanted to kiss the patch of skin that was exposed by the open neck of his shirt, taking both his hands, criss-crossing their fingers she leant down and did just that. She felt him swallow under her lips.

Button by button, not looking him the eye - as she couldn't yet - she undid his shirt all the way to his waist; each button replaced with a kiss, feeling his hand comb through the hair at the nape of her neck, contracting and releasing before she straightened up. Chummy walked her palms back up his chest casting aside the material as she did, his stomach muscles tightening with each touch.

She had no idea until now just how much she desired this. She had had to look the word up last week in the dictionary - 'desire' - but it fitted perfectly. He sat up again so he could take the shirt from his shoulders seeing her face crease with concern. His scars. It hadn't occurred to him that the last time he was in this position, as it were, with a girl she had looked at his scars and her face had dropped and the excuses began. That was when he vowed never to get himself into this position again unless he found his angel and to be honest, Peter had forgotten about them until now. Surely that was a certain sign.

Chummy instead was looking studiously as he leant back onto his hands. She reached forward, drifting a finger over the tip of his shoulder before kissing the marred skin. In one action, all the fear he had ever felt disappeared, even if he couldn't feel it how soft her lips must have been. Peter pulled her close again, feeling a solitary kiss press right over her heart; sure he could probably feel it beating.

As his lips travelled she felt him move away the material that still covered her up. The fact that his lips and tongue were wandering over her breasts sent that aching deep in the pit of her stomach off and she could barely breathe. The rest of the corset was gone before she realised it, pushed away by her own hands so, when she pulled him even closer, they were finally skin to skin.

Peter didn't want to leave here. His mouth on hers, arms wrapped around her back and hers round his neck, massaging his skin. She was almost purring even if she might not realise it and something rumbled from inside him as he dragged his mouth to where his hand was cupping her breast, tongue flickering and soothing, making her gasp.

His experience was next to nothing when it came to women but he had no idea it could feel like this with someone you were so deeply wanting to make this right for and every hint from her was spurring him on. They might have stumbled before, knocked each other down and tripped each other up, but this so easy and Peter seemed to know what to do. It felt like flying.

Released for a moment, Chummy shuffled further back along his legs so she was sitting over his knees, not wanting to see his face as she undid his trouser belt, running her palm back and forth repeatedly over the button fly, curious to see how he would be reacting as she continued, staying, wondering what it might feel like to hold him. He had his eyes closed and she smiled when she did bear to look up. Could she have induced what was only a look of severe concentration?

She was a nurse, she had seen naked males before but this one here wasn't a senile eighty year old dropping his trousers in the middle of the ward; this one was thirty one and all of that was her fault. He lifted his hips so she could shed his trousers, her weight lifting from his legs so she did not get more tangled than she already was.

"Come here", Peter said, arms wide for her to join him back down on the bed, watching her as she lay down. Now Peter knew, that notwithstanding what his body was screaming at him, this was important and precious. She was the love of his life, the person that anchored and assured him and all he wanted was her happiness and it began here.

She was in his arms, legs intertwined, his left hand drawing circles over her skin as she mirrored him, keeping eye contact with her needing to see her reactions and her of his. His hand wandered from her stomach, over the last scrap of material she had on her person to push her leg away; the other still trapped between his. She told herself she wasn't going to jump away, was not going to be frightened, sighing loudly into his mouth as his hand smoothed down to touch her; gently moving in circles, knowing this was right as her hips rose to meet him.

"Just don't warn me" she said quietly, breaking the kiss.

"Don't?" he questioned as she shook her head quickly.

"No", Chummy replied, pulling him back down again to her.

Peter knew she had to be ready for him as she pushed against his hand as all he could hear was her breathing pick up and it send his his pulse sky high. He hooked his thumbs into the sides of the cotton and swept them down her legs and off. His shorts joined them too, almost breathing a sigh of relief at the loss of pressure.

She smiled at him, almost serenely, although if she were being truthful, keeping her eyes averted from the fact that she had no idea what she should be doing with _that._ Thankfully he didn't invite her although her hand twitched to touch him as his hand drifted back dipping into her, making sure she was ready.

She didn't feel scared as he settled down, her legs pulled over his hips but not attempting anything other than feeling the closest they could be utterly exposed in every way possible. Her words 'just don't warn me' flitted through his head, rocking against her, getting the reaction he so very much desired as her head leant back, neck ripe for attention.

Distracted lips pressed to his as her body breathed through the incursion, the delicious caresses down his back ceasing. All she hear could was him apologising for hurting her as he stilled.

"You've not hurt me you fool" she whispered, mouth inches from his ear as he buried his head in her neck. In fact she suddenly felt so light of heart that the soreness certainly didn't matter and she'd never tell anyone it was painful as the invasion was quite frankly, exquisite. He was so close to her; closer than anyone would ever be again.

"Tell me when it's alright" he whispered. His voice sound like it was going to shatter.

She nodded, moving her legs so they were crossed over his back, feeling him push deeper inside her. "It's perfectly alright", she replied, as he began to move, slowly, carefully, not through fear of causing her harm, but stringing this heaven out for as long as possible.

Chummy knew she was holding on so tight to his back, digging her fingertips into his skin as that brief burning was soothed every time he moved inside her, in time, feeling her muscles begin to twitch around him.

She knew what one was meant to be, never expected to know what it was like, but it must have been that sensation as it wound up and up, unable to concentrate on anything other than him as his lips pressed to hers again.

"Camilla…." Her name was choked out from his throat.

"It fine, its fine" she replied as though her body was about to fall into a thousand pieces.

Seconds later he saw stars.


	5. Chapter 5

They must have dozed off, curled up in each other's arms, the eiderdown pulled over them both to ward off the chill.

The breeze against his skin woke Peter up though, scouting around for his alarm clock, heart dropping wondering just precisely how long they had been there and how in trouble she was now going to be in if it was later than he hoped. It read just past half past ten and he cursed silently.

"Camilla?" he said, squeezing her shoulder. "Camilla?"

He nudged her shoulder again with his hand and she woke wrapping her arms around him to kiss him again. If had not have known the time, he would have taken her up on the offer, hand skimming to her waist; but he realised quickly that he really did not fancy seeing Sister Evangelina's face if she arrived 'home' any later than was necessary.

"Come on. Get dressed and I'll walk you back", he continued, sliding out of the other side of the bed, dancing across the floor as it was damn cold now. The window had blown open and that was where the unnatural breeze was coming from.

Peter heard her sigh at the inconvenience of it all. It was dark outside and all she wanted to do was sleep. If she could just encourage him to not get dressed, it would be most fitting.

He almost ran from the window, separating the pile of clothes that had been created. Reluctantly Chummy sat up, wrapping the eiderdown around her has clothes appeared on the bedside her. She dressed without much of another word as he sat beside her, pulling his shirt and trousers on.

"Oh" he said, leaning down and picking the prophylactic up off the floor the moment it fell out of his trouser pocket as he dressed. In truth he'd forgotten about its existence and she hadn't mentioned it again. Mind you, as much as if she had mentioned it he would have acquiesced this once, it _was_ better without.

"It doesn't matter" she noted, leaning back down to roll her stockings up her legs, having now realised she needed to dress quickly.

"Doesn't it?" He was really quite surprised. Even if he had his own views on the things, Peter had caught the wrong end of the odd contraception lecture in the clinic when he arrived to collect her from time to time, and her views were more than clear.

"No" she shook her head, smiling at him. "Apart from the face that that particular horse bolted hours ago, there is no point worrying. I'm safe this time". Chummy held out her hand and put it in one of the drawers next to his bed. As much as he knew that she was the that he wanted to be the mother of his children, there were other things to do first and he would have to take her word for it.

Peter glanced at the clock again, getting more and more concerned as the minutes ticked on. "I know a quick way back to Nonnatus; its not that nice, but its quick".

"That doesn't matter either" she said, straightening her blouse. "The Sisters are in Chichester and Sister Julienne gave me the spare key as she knew we would be going out tonight". She turned to him doing the buttons on his shirt. "She trusts you with my person".

He tried not to laugh.

"And she will continue to trust you" she said firmly taking his hand. "She has no reason not to".

Peter nodded. "You've always been respectful to me and nothing has changed". Chummy was quite firm in her view. This had been her out and out choice and he could have tried it on long before now. It's not like their dates were infrequent and there had not been opportunity before now for him to take advantage of her, but the fact that he had waited for her only made her choice easier. She reached across and kissed him on the cheek. "Come on then".

The streets of Poplar were silent as they walked, Peter still not truly convinced that she was not going to get into some kind of trouble appearing later than her curfew, but he would take her word for it on that too. It was getting icy out and she had borrowed his scarf, wrapped around her as they could both see their breath as they hurried along. They made it back to Nonnatus in double quick time, half running and deciding that was a particularly bad idea so they reverted to a hasty walk. It was the fact that the clock was clicking but also that Peter really did not want her around this part of the district even with him at this time of night. It was part of the more salubrious end of his beat and not a place for her.

"No, this way" she said pulling his hand along around the side and back of Nonnatus, silently noting that the bike shed was full. All the girls were home it would seem.

"Ah!" he replied realising where he was being led, walking towards the side door in increasing darkness, the bricks of Nonnatus overhanging them both as it gazed at them from above.

She turned and smiled, only to find herself stepping back as he stepped forward, pinning her in the nook of the door, reaching up to kiss her before she knew where she was, confident that it was that dark and that out of the way that there was no opportunity whatsoever to be disturbed. Peter had also silently noted that there seemed to rather a lot of bicycles in the shed and if anyone was going out, they would go that way not this. She was suddenly back in his lodgings, hands resting on her neck, tongue sweeping around her lips. She could get used to those types of kisses.

"I love you" she said, gathering herself. Chummy knew she had made the right decision to give him the most precious gift she could think of that ever existed. He had her heart and soul and the strength she had gained from tonight would always be imprinted in her mind forever and a day; just like this particular kiss.

"I don't want to leave you", he replied, eyes downcast, just wishing she would marry him on the spot and he could take her home this second and pull her back down onto the settee or close that bedroom door again.

"Well you have to for now", she responded, thinking ahead, resting her hands on his chest. "But, how about bringing our Sunday walk forward to Friday evening?"

"I can't" Peter replied. "I'm on nights from tomorrow for a week so it'll have to be Sunday".

"Oh" she noted, nodding her head, disappointed. If Peter could change it he would.

"But it's not as though I can't say I won't pop into here see you. You know I could always do with a cup of tea and…." With that he went for her again, wrapping is arms around her waist, only to set her off laughing, nuzzling into what little of her neck was accessible around his scarf.

"Stop it" she whispered, resting her cheek against his. "I don't know who's about".

She felt him sigh. "I suppose then I have to say goodnight" Peter replied.

"You do".

One more kiss again and he was gone, Chummy turned the key in the lock, having to force the door closed as always. Nonnatus was quiet and passing the kitchen, she briefly looked into the sitting room, seeing no-one. As she turned, totally and utterly unable to wipe a very broad grin off her face, she realised someone was with her. Three people in fact, arm in arm, at the bottom of the stairs, probably disturbed by the bang of the door as she pushed it closed.

"We thought we'd have a game of cards" Cynthia offered as the three stood, in uniform occupying themselves until there was another call.

"And we heard the door go" Jenny added.

"We were worried about the time. That you were alright as its long past ten" Cynthia finished for her, quite genuine concerns having been had as the clock ticked past. Usually he delivered her back right on time; albeit with seconds to spare on occasion, but never, ever, late and despite what they knew of their local constable, the girls still had their worries about their friend.

"Oh no" Chummy replied. "Everything's tickety boo. We just lost track of time". She knew the smile she had on her face was hiding something as she walked up towards them, past them so they could all turn towards their bedrooms.

"What _is_ that mark on your neck Miss Browne?!" Trixie asked, voice aghast; Jenny and Cynthia somewhat confused.

Chummy's hand shot to her neck, realising she was still wearing Peter's scarf and there was no way on earth anyone could have seen an inch of her skin underneath it.

"Caught you!" Trixie laughed slipping her arm into her friend's elbow as all four walked upstairs. "I was only joking. Anyone would think you had something to hide!"

"Trixie, don't tease" Cynthia intervened before Chummy could say anything more. "Peter's an absolute gentleman and I'm sure there's nothing Chummy needs to be worried about when he's around her!"

Chummy just smiled awkwardly as she closed her bedroom door as they all bid each other goodnight; the girls waiting for calls and Chummy sinking into her bed, still with his scarf around her neck, breathing him close. How she did wish she had had the courage to stand up to her mother long ago. She might have been married now; in his arms, instead of only a blanket and his scarf to keep her warm.

Still, she thought, as her eyes willingly closed, do I have that courage now?

Certainly she felt so, believed so maybe. Her eyes were shut now, shivering again. Something about tonight had imprinted upon her just what life could now be like. Palmolive and Brylcreem, on her hands, on her skin; a waft from the scarf still around her neck as her hands fell to it, realising she dare not sleep in it. It's presence was giving her unbecoming thoughts again, fingertips skating down her skin, lips dusting...She took the scarf off quickly and pushed it under her pillow.

Sunday. Until Sunday.


End file.
